Keepsake
by hawklies
Summary: A small smirk pulled at the edges of his mouth, so he still had it after all this time. He flipped to the next page, leaning back in the chair. Maybe this was his best work, maybe it was his worst, but there was no other review that would have mattered more than of the one he quietly loved.


Name: Keepsake  
Fandom: Dynasty Warriors  
Rating: K  
Pairing: Cao Pi x Lu Xun [THAT MEANS ITS TWO BOYS TOGETHER YO]  
Word Count: 747  
Warnings: I've never written either one before. Also it's AU.

* * *

He recognized the cover, buried underneath texts and half filled forms, it was easy to miss, if he hadn't have been looking for a pen he would have looked right over it as if it were nothing. The spine, once new and untouched was now faded and old, worn from use; it had a faint layer of dust distorting the bluish color further. He ran his finger across it before dragging it out from underneath the pile, holding out a hand to keep it from all collapsing. Hello, old friend. He gently opened it, allowing the pages to fall where they were most accustomed to, the book made a loud cracking sound, like it couldn't take the stress from opening one more time. The familiar words came back to him, like a memory that had been blurred coming into focus. He'd forgotten all about it.

* * *

It was an unusually cold day for fall, he'd been worried about snow, though he was informed that it wasn't quite that cold yet, maybe it was more he hoped for it. He held the unmarked book closer to his side, it felt heavy in his hand like the words inside gave it a new weight, if it snowed he would have the perfect excuse for not going to the festival. After all he wouldn't have had the chance to get winter clothing on such short notice, and even though the things from last year still fit it was a reasonable enough excuse in his mind. It hadn't snowed by nightfall, and he had waited just long enough that he'd barely arrive on time. Sulking he made his way to the festival, truthfully he would have been devastated not to have had the chance to spend the whole night with the one he'd been writing embarrassing poems about for nearly a year.

"Oh, you came!" Lu Xun waved him over.

"Were you expecting me not to?" He replied, somewhat coldly to his own dismay.

"H-ha," Lu Xun scratched the back of his head, glancing down at the ground. "So uh, did you have something in mind you wanted to do first?"  
"No," He wanted to apologize for his tone, but nothing else would come out.

They stood there for a few long moments until someone recognized Lu Xun and asked if they wanted to join them. The two followed around Lu Xun's group of friends, much to what seemed to be disappointment in Lu Xun's face, though he disguised it well enough to avoid bringing everyone else down. They continued on awkwardly making comments at this and that, until it was time for the fireworks.

They walked up a hill off of the designated lit path to try and find a better view point. He watched the excitement in Lu Xun's face while the sky lit up in a rainbow of colors, it was strange the feeling in the pit of his stomach. He hadn't quite figured out if it was a good feeling or if it hurt, but the book in his jacket pocket suddenly weighed very heavily against him for the second time. Lost in the anxiety of his feelings, he had hardly realized when Lu Xun turned to see him mentally arguing with himself, most likely a result from him staring intensely in his direction.

"Did I do something?" Lu Xun asked seeming put off by his gaze.

He hesitated, his hand in his pocket brushing up against the book, trying to find the right mindset, the right atmosphere. If this were to be a confession, of something he'd yet to figure out, he wanted to have the right words for it. There was nothing but silence, and his frustration with himself built until finally he yanked the book from his pocket and shoved it into Lu Xun's hands. He was met with a look of shock and confusion.

"What is it?" Lu Xun said.

"Just...read it, and...When you're done...if you never want to see me again," He paused, and shrugged. "I guess it can't be helped."

* * *

A small smirk pulled at the edges of his mouth, so he still had it after all this time. He flipped to the next page, leaning back in the chair. Maybe this was his best work, maybe it was his worst, but there was no other review that would have mattered more than of the one he quietly loved.


End file.
